Marks
by YoshiStack
Summary: The adults in the lives of Lyoko Warriors aren't always so unobservant. An occasional bruise here, a strange item there. These things add up over time. But if only they could just figure out what was going on with them...
1. Akiko Ishiyama

Akiko Ishiyama

Making grocery lists was far from her favorite thing to do, but it was something that needed to be done. She'd already put it off as long as she could in favor of getting some more work done around the house this week—because heaven forbid Takeho ever offer to help with that—but if she waited any longer she wouldn't have enough to make dinner tonight.

She pulled her head out of the fridge and made a few notes on a nearby sheet of paper sitting on the counter. After giving it one more look inside, she closed the fridge door and moved over toward the pantry instead. As she walked by, she spared a glance toward the table. She felt her heart sink a little.

There was Hiroki, sitting alone, making little clinking sounds with his bowl as he finished his breakfast. Takeho's absence she expected. He'd mentioned something about needing to go in early for some meeting—something about a new product? She didn't really remember. But more importantly, Yumi wasn't there either.

She suppressed the urge to sigh.

It looked like she'd decided to head to school early again.

That made four times this week that Yumi had done that. And that was only this week, that wasn't even including how many times she'd done it the past few months. More and more often she was only sending Hiroki out the door in the morning. And that fact concerned her.

A part of her wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it sounded. How many books had she read that said one of the daily struggles she'd face when her child was a teen was getting them out of bed in the morning? She was already having issues with Hiroki some mornings. If anything, she should be grateful Yumi seemed responsible enough to get herself out the door in such a timely manner. But still, combined with how late Yumi was coming home some nights and her lackluster attendance lately, and well…

She couldn't help but worry.

Takeho was certain it was a streak of teenage rebellion born out of a lack of discipline.

Hiroki, rather unhelpfully, insisted it was because Yumi was in love with one of the boys in her group of friends.

Yumi herself assured them that she was only leaving so early because she wanted to spend more time with her friends, who she only really got to see during the day during lunch since they were younger than her (Though she remained tight lipped about why she came home so late).

As for herself? She wasn't sure what she believed.

She let out a thoughtful hum as she jotted down a few more items on her list. "Hiroki," she said, catching the boys attention as he wolfed down the last of his meal. "I'm going to the store today. Is there anything you can think of that we need?"

He made his thinking face—the one where he furrows his brow and sticks out his tongue a little to the side. "Well…" he started.

It's also the face he often makes when he's about to say something ridiculous. "Hiroki," she interrupted him, giving him a sharp look. "What do we _need_?"

He let out a startled sound at her glare and busied himself with putting his bowl in the sink to avoid her gaze. "U-uh… Nothing-" he stopped himself when he reached to turn the water on. "Oh! Band-aids!"

She frowned. Band-aids? That couldn't be right. She could've sworn she'd just bought some more less than a month ago. She was usually the one that used them the most often (The dangers of cooking), and she knew she hadn't used any recently.

She noticed a flash of neon green on Hiroki's thumb and her frown deepened.

"Hiroki, what have your father and I told you about the band-aids not being stickers?" She asked.

"Hey! I know that! This is the only one I've used!" he argued. He folded his arms across his chest with a pout. "And I only used this one cause I accidentally sliced by thumb with my nail,"

She raised a brow at him. "You wouldn't have that problem if you cut them evenly," she reminded him.

"I do!" he insisted. "But it still happens anyway!"

"Oh, Hiroki…" She sighed. Not this argument again. She rolled her eyes, then noticed the time on the clock nearby. "If you don't leave soon you're going to be late," she noted.

"Ok, ok, I'm going," Hiroki said, reaching for his bag. He made his way toward the kitchen door.

Before he could leave, she stopped him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, much to his confusion, then pulled him into a hug. Immediately he started squirming to get free. She resisted the urge to smile at his antics.

"Mooooom," he whined.

"Have a good day, Hiroki," she said, then for extra measure, kissed his forehead.

He pulled out of her grasp with a gag. "Mom! Ew, gross!" He shouted, wiping at the spot where she'd kissed him with his arm. She laughed and jokingly reached for him again. He ducked under her arms and scurried toward the door, hardly bothering with a hasty farewell before the door slammed shut behind him.

And thus, she was alone.

Back to work then. She continued moving through the kitchen in silence, jotting down more items they were missing or running low on. But as she checked over the pantry once again, she found herself not focusing on it, thinking instead about Hiroki's claim. Her eyes wandered over toward the direction of the bathroom.

Well, if they were out of band-aids, who knew what else they needed more of. She might as well check, just in case. She made her way over to the bathroom, some floorboards creaking as she passed over them.

As soon as she opened the door she found the box of band-aids sitting on it's side on top of the counter. Curiously, she picked it up and looked inside. Maybe Hiroki had just missed a few that were in there?

No. It was empty, just as he had said.

"Hm," she let out. Strange, but oh well. Just another item on the list. As she moved to place the empty box in the wastebasket, the sight of the medicine cabinet caught her eye.

It was still slightly open.

She shook her head. "Oh, Hiroki. You take on after your father too much. Both of you need to learn how to properly close…. Things…" Her voice trailed off as she opened the cabinet to look inside.

It was looking barren.

Inside the cabinet she could see several things missing. For one, the larger bandages and gauze they kept around as a precaution for a just-in-case type situation (that they thankfully had yet to encounter) were almost entirely gone. Similarly, the disinfectants they had were missing entirely, and the soap bottle on the edge of the sink was looking very low. The few bottles of low level pain relievers they kept in their were, she decided after shaking and listening to the contents, almost empty as well.

She let her hand fall to her side after placing the bottle back and merely stared. This wasn't right. It didn't make sense. The band-aids she could understand, maybe she'd misjudged how many were supposed to be in the box, but everything else? It shouldn't have been so low, let alone missing in some cases. She hardly ever had to use these items, and she was the one at home most often. So the idea that Hiroki, or Takeho, or Yumi-

Yumi…

She felt her breath catch as her mind started to buzz with wild theories about her daughter.

Yumi, who had been leaving the house earlier and coming back later lately.

Yumi, who refused to clearly answer their question about what she was doing and who was involved beyond a vague "With my friends".

Yumi, who was pulling away from her and Takeho, and who smiled and laughed less altey, and often wore a tired expression, as if nothing surprised her anymore.

Yumi, who, if she thought about it, would more and more often come home with a slight limp in her step, or would wince when she thought no one was looking at her at the slightest movement. Who would let out forced sounding laughs and wave it off if someone did notice.

"_Ulrich and I got a little too rough during martial arts practice today, that's all._"

"_Ah, I twisted my ankle a little during phys ed I guess. We had to run around a lot; Jim likes to run us ragged some days_,"

"_It's nothing, just a small accident during chemistry with Ms. Hertz today. It'll go away in a few days,_"

"_I just slipped on the stairs today. Don't worry about it._"

Yumi, who told her not to worry about these events. That they were just isolated incidents that happened now and again. Just small things that happened to everyone every now and again.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that no, they weren't just occasional occurrences. They were becoming rather frequent; apparently had been frequent enough to deplete most of the medical supplies they had.

And between this, and the fact that Yumi had been seemingly trying to avoid them by pulling away from the rest of them…

Well, of course she couldn't help but worry about the safety of her oldest child.

She looked up and stared at her reflection in the mirror, pensive and worried.

What was she going to do? She couldn't just ignore this—this was a matter of her daughter's safety—and yet previous attempts at talking with her had proven fruitless so far. Confronting her about it now could just make her push away from her even more, which would only make solving this mystery even harder down the line. But doing nothing wouldn't solve the problem either.

She let her head fall into her hands with a dismayed sigh. She had no idea what to do.

After a moment, she lifted her head, took in a deep breath through her nose, and let it out. She took another glance at the medicine cabinet, still open, and reached for the list she'd left on the counter and jotted down a few more things.

This was the one thing she knew she could do without any harm at least. It was all she could think of to do right now.

But as she wrote down more on her list, she couldn't help her hand from shaking and her grip from tightening on her pencil. The tip of the pencil snapped under the pressure, leaving a stray mark across part of the list.

She let out a shaky breath and stared out toward Yumi's closed bedroom.

"Oh, Yumi… just what have you gotten yourself into?"

* * *

**We love a good series of oneshots around here, don't we? Especially angsty, injury laden ones.**

**As I've gotten older, I started to appreciate some of the background characters more. Jim is of course the biggest example of this, but the other adult characters too. The Lyoko Warriors are pretty good at lying their way out of situations, but that's usually only because the adults in the show are kinda stupid. Surely they aren't _always _so unobservant though, right?**

**I was going to have it be just the staff of Kadic, but Yumi being a day student and living at home presented an opportunity that was too good to pass up on. Hopefully you like it, and if you did, let me know!**


	2. Jim Morales

Jim Morales

"...and you two should be ashamed of yourselves! Look at this mess! You live in a dorm room, not a zoo!" He barked. He held a hand up when the students started to protest. "I don't wanna hear any of your excuses, I wanna see this place shine! Now, get to work! I'll be back in an hour, and I better not see hide or hair of you until then, you got that?"

One of them raised their hand. "But, Jim, what about-"

"Put your hand down, Poliakoff. For the last time, you can't have a toaster in the dorms." And with that, Jim turned on his heel out the door and slammed it shut. He stayed there for a moment, listening. He could hear some grumbling from within the dorm, then some shuffling. Finally, the two started to argue, shouting at one another about who was more to blame about the pigsty they called a dorm room.

Jim rolled his eyes. Oh well, that'd be their detention to serve for not doing as they were asked.

He shifted the toaster he was holding under his arm and pulled out a clipboard with a list of names on it. Clicking his pen, he put an 'X' by the names _Pichon and Poliakoff_. He took a look at the number of names still remaining and groaned. He let his shoulders droop and stared up towards the ceiling, letting his neck pop a few times.

It was dorm inspection time—again. It wasn't that he minded doing them, they were more tedious than hard, but it nobody seemed to have their head on straight this time. About half the rooms he'd already looked at had been complete wrecks, or they'd held items that were forbidden under school dorm policy.

...Or, he noted as he stared at his reflection in the toaster, sometimes both.

He wasn't sure what about this time made everyone crazy, but he hoped the next one's up wouldn't actually have a sense of understanding of what the rules were. He looked back down and back at the clipboard.

"Let's see… let's see…" he muttered. He traced down the list, going past the marked names and down to who was next.

_Della Robbia and Stern_

_Della Robbia..._

...Welp. There went his hopes.

Jim took a deep breath and sighed into the clipboard. He looked toward the door in question, laying just a few paces in front of him. With someone like Odd Della Robbia involved this was going to be… interesting.

It certainly wasn't that he disliked the boy—it was quite the opposite. Odd reminded him a lot when he'd been a young boy; an athletic, prankster of a boy with a bit of a rebellious, artistic streak. A kid who could go a little too far sometimes with his jokes, but was ultimately a good person at heart who just needed some time to grow up. He'd deny it if asked, but Odd was probably one of his favorite students, when he wasn't being a complete pain in the neck to deal with.

But all that said, he also could deny there was just something… strange about him. And it wasn't just his fashion sense.

Really, there was something weird about all of them, Della Robbia and his little gang of friends. Him, Stern, Belpois, and Ishiyama were such a strange, mismatched seeming group that formed seemingly out of nowhere. Which fine, strange friend groups formed all the time, he'd certainly seen his fair share of them in all his years at Kadic, but the way they seemed so close with such little prior contact was just bizarre. And then there was how they acted, always speaking in hushed voices around Belpois' computer, or running around campus to who-knew-where doing who-knew-what.

And then came Della Robbia's cousin, and the already stranger group got even stranger. In came who was supposed to be a stranger to all but one, and yet they all acted like they'd known her for months as soon as she'd arrived; he'd even overheard the boys refer to her with an affectionate nickname just a few days after her arrival. She'd fit in as if she were a missing piece in their puzzle almost instantly.

It was all so peculiar… and to him very suspicious.

There were countless rumors about just what was up with their group. He'd heard things from the mundane, such as the idea they'd become friends was because they'd had no one else to turn to and just met at the right time, to the absolutely ridiculous, such as the idea the group was a group of time travelers that had traveled back to when they were children, and were secretly fighting to save the world.

Kids and their comic books these days…

All Jim knew for certain is that whatever they were up to, it had to be no good. They were all at the right age to cause mischief, and he was certain that's what they were up to. For awhile, he'd been doing a pretty good job of keeping track of them, and he was certain he'd even been getting close to a breakthrough! But then Mr. Delmas got onto him about 'respecting student privacy', so he'd been forced to put his investigations on hold until he found a way to walk that fine line more carefully.

...Which, the more he thought about it, a dorm inspection was a perfect way to do just that.

He couldn't stifle the satisfied laugh from bubbling out of his chest for a moment. This was it! This was the moment he'd been waiting for! Finally, he could get a lead on the activities of the most mysterious group at Kadic.

With a confident nod, Jim marched up toward the door.

Della Robbia opened the door before he could even knock. He couldn't hide his surprise at that, jumping and letting out a startled sound. The toaster nearly slid out from his grasp.

If Della Robbia noticed any of it, he didn't show it, instead flashing his trademark grin as he looked up at him. "Ah, right on time, as usual Jim," he said jovially, then eyed the toaster he was still struggling to tuck back under his arm. "Well! It's a little late for a housewarming gift, but if you insist…" He reached for it.

Snapping out of his stupor, he raised it over the boy's head, out of his reach. "Very funny, Della Robbia," he said. He shrugged and stepped out of the way, letting Jim step into the room.

"Oh well, maybe next time," he shrugged. "But hey! Third time I've made that joke and you still think it's funny. Glad to see I've still got my touch."

"What?" He looked back down at him with a confused look. "Just what on Earth are you talking about?" What other opportunities would there have even been for Della Robbia to even make such a joke?

He shrugged again, shoving his hands in his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Oh, I'd explain it, but I'm getting kind of sick of explaining things you're just gonna end up forgetting anyway," he said. He almost had a bored expression on his face.

He narrowed his eyes. He was being cryptic as ever it seemed. Well, it wouldn't last for long, not under his keen eye.

He gave a quick cursory glance around the room. On a surface level, it seemed pretty clean. There weren't any clothes just laying out on the floor, or any junk food wrappers just lying around. Even both the beds were made. Maybe a bit sloppily, but it was more effort than he'd seen all day. Overall, it looked perfectly normal.

But he knew better. Things were never as they seemed. And already, there was one important thing off about the room.

"Where's Stern?" He asked. He'd assumed Stern had just been being quiet, but he wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Oh, him? He's returning a book in the library," Della Robbia pointed toward the door with his thumb. "He'll be back in a few minutes, as long as Sissi doesn't attack him this time," He muttered.

Hm… seemed believable enough.

"Ah," he said with a nod, rubbing at his chin. "She is pretty… aggressive, in going after him, isn't she,"

He let out a dry laugh. "More than you know, Jim. More than you know…"

There. That look in his eye; he'd seen that before, in all of them. Usually when they were laughing about one of their 'inside jokes' or the like. He was onto something, he had to be!

He narrowed his eyes at the boy, and before he could stop himself, asked, "Just what are you hiding, Della Robbia?"

He put a hand to his chest with a dramatic gasp. "Me? Hiding something? Why, I would never!" He exclaimed. "You offend me, good sir!"

He set the toaster and clipboard down near the foot of Della Robbia's bed and looked down at him with a smirk. "Oh, do I now? Well, let's just see about that then," he said, eyeing Della Robbia's closet. He reached out for one of the knobs and started to pull.

Strange… it wouldn't budge.

Della Robbia's confident face turned into one of panic. "Wait, Jim, maybe don't-"

"I thought you had 'nothing to hide'?" He taunted. He pulled a little harder on the door, but still it refused to move. He grumbled and started to pull with both hands.

"I don't, it's just-"

"If you…. hrnngh, don't have anything to hide… then there shouldn't be…. a problem!" Jim replied, voice straining. Just what did he do to this thing? "What did you do to this thing? Glue it shut?" Finally, he heard a squeak as he started to make some progress.

"No, it's just that side is-"

"Aha!... Ack!" He let out a triumphant noise as finally he got the door to open… only to then be assaulted by an avalanche of objects tumbling onto him. He fell to the floor and quickly became covered in various boxes, clothes, and other objects in his closet.

"...busted," Della Robbia finished with a cringe.

He pulled one of the hoodies sitting on his face and looked up at him with a glare. "Odd…" he said, voice low and almost threatening.

"Hey! Everything was fine in there until you went all muscle man on the door!" He argued. "I tried to warn you.

"Why is it-" he stopped and rubbed his face with a groan. With Odd, it could be broken for any number of reasons; it wasn't worth trying to wrestle the answer out. "Just… just clean it up," he sighed. He'd have to remember to file a report about the door later to have it looked at.

"Ok, ok, I'm going," he grumbled. He bent to pick up a few of the clothes around Jim and stuffed them back inside. Meanwhile, Jim pulled himself off of the floor, wincing when he felt his back pop in several places, and stood up. He moved a few steps back to better watch Della Robbia.

Something squeaked under his foot. Della Robbia froze, shoulders high and tense. Jim looked down.

It was… a bone? What in the world…?

He reached down and picked it up. Yes, it was a rubber bone. He gave it another experimental squeak, then looked at Della Robbia with narrowed eyes.

"Why do you have a dog toy in your room?"

"Heh heh, w-well I uh…" Della Robbia stammered, rubbing at the back of his neck. "It's a long way from home, y'know? Gotta get what tastes of it I can get!" He let out a nervous laugh, and before he could say anything else, he quickly grabbed the toy out of his hand and tossed it back into the closet. He then busied himself with picking up more items off the floor.

"Hm…" Jim let out. Very suspicious. Was that their big secret? A dog? Better take a closer look to be sure.

He started rifling through the scattered objects. If Della Robbia had any protests (not that he would care) he didn't voice them, simply keeping his head ducked down as he worked as fast as he could. There wasn't much of note. Video game box, comic book, another game box, another hoodie, a board game, a strange white case, a game cartridge-

Wait… what was that one?

He brushed some of the other objects on top of it off of it and pulled the case closer to him. And there it was, an unmistakable symbol plaster on top of it: a red cross.

It was a first aid kit.

Well. That was new. He'd found a lot of strange things during dorm inspections this year alone, but not this.

Jim frowned at it. "Della Robbia," he called, then held it up for the boy to see when he looked over at him, presenting the wordless question to him.

Unlike with the toy, Della Robbia didn't freeze, nor did a panicked expression come over him. Instead, he merely stared at it for a moment in complete silence.

Finally, just when he was about to ask again, he answered: "It's not against the rules to have one," he said. His voice had lost it's signature comical, casual tone, and had been replaced by an uncharacteristic serious one.. He stared up at Jim with an intense stare.

It almost unnerved him. Almost. "Be that as it may…" Jim said. He set the case on the bed and opened it, just to be certain. Inside was the typical kind of supplies one would expect to find. He looked back at him with a frown. "Why do you need one?"

He shrugged, looking everywhere in the room except Jim's face. "It's not a bad thing to have around. Accidents happen sometimes."

Hm… a valid point, but still…

"If an accident happens, you should go to the infirmary and get it treated by an adult, not play doctor yourself," he cautioned him.

"Well, yeah, if it was big, then that'd probably be a little different," Della Robbia conceded. "But Yolanda's not always there, and we're not gonna go bug her over every little bump or scrape, y'know? We can handle that ourselves." He rubbed at one of his shoulders, then made a strange, almost pained expression, and stopped.

"Hm…" he let out, rubbing at his chin again. He didn't like this; there was still something off about it. "How often do uh… 'accidents' happen to make you think you need one?"

"Oh, you know. Every now and again, here or there," he answered vaguely. When his expression didn't change, Della Robbia sighed. "Look, I'm an artist, Jim. Sometimes I make mistakes with scissors. Or sometimes Ulrich'll do something dumb—you know much of a klutz he can be sometimes," he laughed at that one, but then the seriousness returned. "It's not a big deal, Jim. Really. Just drop it, ok?"

His eyes locked with Della Robbia's in an intense staring contest.

This was strange—he was hiding something. This could be a lead, and how long had he been waiting for an opportunity to latch onto one of those? This was up there with his gangs hushed whisperings and careful glances. It was extremely suspicious.

He should look into it more.

He should question it further.

He should press Della Robbia until he confesses to… whatever it is he's doing.

His eyes turned from intense to pleading. "Please," he begged.

He looked away from him and back down at the case. "...You better not have stolen it from the infirmary," he said, and closed the case and slid it over to him.

A relieved expression washed over the boy for a split second, then was replaced by a grin again. "Me? Steal? Never!"

He rolled his eyes. "Hurry up and clean this up," he ordered. Della Robbia simply laughed and did exactly that, humming quietly to himself.

But as Jim watched him slip the first aid kit back into his closet, he still couldn't help but worry. Most students didn't concern themselves with having one of those. Why would they, when the infirmary was right there? In a kids eyes, it'd be pointless to have one otherwise.

...Unless they had a valid reason to have one.

...Was this related to their secret? It could explain why they acted so secretive and hushed about it. Maybe some of the rumors he'd heard weren't so off base.

...No, wait, absolutely not. That was ridiculous! He needed to cut back on the cartoons, it was starting to affect him too much. Having a first aid kit was certainly strange, but it wasn't enough to start grilling into anyone yet. He needed more information. How long it would take him to get said information was another story, but well…

In the meantime though, maybe he should start keeping a closer eye on the group again.

Because whatever was going on with Odd and his friends, maybe it was more serious than he thought.

* * *

**Debated about whether I should make Jim more comedic like usual, or more like he was in Code Earth and False Start. Went more with the latter given the premise of the oneshots, but hopefully I still got some humor in there.**

**The man can be observant! Just... not usually.**

**And if you're like 'where's Kiwi at?" Just remember: Ulrich's not there for a reason :)**


	3. Yolanda Perraudin

**Possible TW: The subject of child abuse is danced around this chapter. While it is not discussed in depth, or even actually occurring (Unless you wanna count XANA as a perpetrator of that), I feel it is important to warn those who might feel uncomfortable with that topic in advance.**

* * *

Yolanda Perraudin

Of course she knows about them—they're perhaps the most talked about group at Kadic this year. Both students and staff alike gossiped about them constantly: a group of five mismatched misfits making friends with one another seemingly overnight. In such a clique oriented environment, of course a group like theirs would become the talk of the school.

But even if there weren't constant rumors about them, she was fairly certain she would be very familiar with them anyway.

Because, supposedly, she'd seen them quite often.

It was the group's most frequently asked request: that they weren't feeling well and needed to go see her. And yet, despite how often they asked, she saw them very little. She wasn't sure what it was that they felt was so important they had to get out of their classes for, but it certainly wasn't to see her all the time. If anything, it felt like they avoided seeing her whenever possible.

Which made the times she did see them all the more… memorable.

It happened on a Sunday morning, on the day she scheduled the make-up health examinations. It had been a very busy day. Normally, there weren't very many names on the list, but after her abrupt… pause on the initial day (She still wasn't certain what had happened to her that day) she'd had to reschedule about half the eighth grade class.

Thankfully, the check ups didn't take very long, and by early afternoon she was done with most of the names on the list. She only had a handful left, she noted, and only one boy in that group. May as well finish that up, she figured.

She opened the door while looking at the name on her clipboard. "Ulrich Stern?" she read out, then looked around.

She didn't have to look very far. Ulrich had been sitting on the floor down the hall. Once he heard his name, he lifted his head, then hopped up off the floor and hustled over to her.

She gave him a smile as he entered the room. "Hello, Ulrich," she greeted. Ulrich let out a grunt in return.

Ah, the conversationalist skills of teenage boys.

"How's your week been?" She shut the door behind them and gave him a curious look. "Anything interesting going on?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Usual stuff. Math, Italian, too much homework from everyone…"

She let out a small laugh at his progressively displeased expression as he spoke. "I guess not every week can be as exciting as what's played on TV, now can it?"

His lips twitched at that. "Guess not," he replied in a strange tone of voice. He looked as if he wanted to laugh. Hm, strange, She hadn't thought she'd said anything funny.

Maybe another one of the 'inside jokes' that was popular with him and his friends?

Well, it didn't really matter. She started scanning over his file to check for any major changes in it. "Is there anything that I should know about before we start?" He shook his head. "Ok then. You should be able to get started on that homework soon at least. This shouldn't take very long."

Another shrug, not that she expected much else from him. He'd been at Kadic several years now, he knew the drill. He moved over to one of the nearby chairs while she grabbed the thermometer from her desk.

"If you're looking for more excitement, then you're probably looking forward to the soccer tryouts soon, I'd imagine. They're in a few weeks, aren't they?" she asked while they waited for the thermometer. He let out a hum right before it beeped. She checked it; a perfectly normal temperature.

"Yeah, I guess," he said in a bored tone. As she made notes of his temperature, she glanced over at him to find him looking around the room, a completely disinterested expression on his face. When his interest in that activity dried up, he moved on to playing with a loose thread on the edge of his shirt.

She frowned. "'You guess'?" she echoed. She grabbed the nearby blood pressure cuff and placed it on his arm. "You don't seem very enthusiastic about it. Why, are you worried you won't make the team for some reason?"

He shrugged again. "No," he said as the cuff started to tighten around his arm. "Just not planning on trying out."

"O-oh… I see..." She couldn't mask her surprise at the news. Her eyes went wide at him, though he'd turned away from her gaze to look at the window. She shook her head and focused back on what she was supposed to be doing. She continued in silence, but still, she couldn't keep her thoughts quiet.

If there was anything known almost school wide about Ulrich Stern, it was that he liked soccer, and that he was good at it. While he might not have been the best academically (She'd heard Suzanne bemoan his lack of effort enough to get a feel for what kind of student he was), athletically he thrived. She'd seen only a few of his games in his time at Kadic, but even she could tell that for someone his age, he certainly did very well.

Jim certainly hadn't been able to stop raving about the boys potential since he'd arrived.

For him to just suddenly... stop, to give up the one thing he seemed to excel in, sounded like an impossibility. And yet, here he was, talking about it as if it was as much of an afterthought as the weather.

She let out a hum in thought as she removed the cuff from his arm. "Any particular reason why?"

"Hm?" He looked back, and tilted his head. "Reason for what?"

"For not trying out this year,"

Finally, she got more than just a shrug out of him. He readjusted how he sat in the chair and looked down at his lap. "Just… don't want to this year, that's all. Got enough to do as it is..." he muttered that last part under his breath while he twiddled his thumbs, but she still heard it. She furrowed her brow.

He must've seen the look on her face, because he quickly added, "Because there's so much homework this year, I mean! I wouldn't have time for anything else! I mean, you know how Mrs. Hertz is with giving out homework…" He let out a sheepish laugh that trailed off, then rubbed at the back of his neck and looked out toward the window again.

She couldn't help the small laugh at his quip. So that was it, was it? "Yes, I've heard she likes to keep you busy," she said. She looked back down at her notes and scribbled on them some more. "Though I have to say, I'm impressed with your forethought to prioritize your grades like that. It can't be easy to give something like that up," she noted.

He made a dismissive noise and a slight tilt and nod of his head.. Whatever that meant.

"I'm sure your teammates will miss you," she noted.

"They'll get over it."

Her thoughts of Jim said otherwise.

"Well," she said instead, "Just take care that you still keep yourself active in some way. Activity is important for people your age,"

The strange gleam in his eye from before returned, as did a smirk. "Don't worry about that. I have my ways," he said. Then, he stood up and started to remove his jacket. "Height and weight next, right?"

She blinked. "Ah… yes, that's right." She heard more shuffling from him as she turned around to the scale and turned it on to set it up. She turned back around again to the table to rest her notes in and made some more marks in them.

There had been that look again… She still didn't think she'd said anything that strange. From her understanding, he and his group of friends found a lot of seemingly mundane things funny. Maybe she could try asking?

She heard the scale let out a beep—done already? She must've lost track of time. She turned around and…

All thoughts of asking about him and his friends vanished, and were instead placed by horrified panic.

Ulrich!" she gasped.

"What? Come on, it's not that bad, is it?" he joked. He looked back with a slight grin, but sobered upon seeing her face. "Yolanda…?"

She said nothing, only stared. Splattered all across his back were more bruises than she could count, big and small, in a variety of shades of blue and purple. There were more across his upper back and shoulders, but no part of his back was completely spared.

A million different ideas rushed through her head, each worse than the last. She swallowed and tried to compose herself. Gawking wasn't very professional, nor was it helping right now.

"Ulrich," she said in the calmest voice she could, "Why didn't you mention this?"

"Mention what?" He twisted his neck to follow her line of sight. When his eyes fell on one of the bruises on his shoulder, he stopped. "Oh, right. That."

She clutched her notes so tightly that the edges balled in her hand. That was not a proper response for anyone to have, let alone a 13 year old boy. Gingerly, she grabbed a hold of his wrist and gently led him over to the led, where she had him sit down. There she took another, closer look at the bruises.

They weren't… as bad looking as she'd initially thought, but the sheer number of them was worrisome enough as it was. Some appeared to be healing, while others seemed much more fresh, but the placement of each of those was utterly random. Of course, the fact that he had any at all was the most concerning part of all.

"How did this happen?" she asked as she inspected.

Ulrich shrugged again (And now she couldn't help but cringe at the motion, knowing what he'd been hiding) and hummed. "Uh… I don't know… Maybe I fell…?"

"Ulrich." She interrupted. She walked so she was standing in front of him, and looked down at him with a hardened, serious expression. "It's important that you tell the truth,"

At that, his mouth snapped shut with an audible clack, and he averted his gaze from her own. "It just… look, I don't know, ok? Things happen sometimes, and I …"

"But when 'things' happen, you should tell someone about it. Why didn't you say anything?"

His feet didn't touch the floor from where he sat, but they swung over the edge at a faster rate than they had before.. "I… forgot about them?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. "It… it just wasn't a big deal, ok? It's not like anything's broken or something."

"But marks like this are still-"

"Look, they don't even hurt that much." He folded his arms across his chest and looked toward the floor, muttering to himself.. "Nothing I'm not used to anyway…"

She bit her lip. She didn't like this, not at all. What did that mean, 'nothing he wasn't used to'? The amount of bruises indicated that this had happened before but…

How regularly did his back look like this?

...And what else could he be hiding?

"Ulrich," she managed to pull his eyes back to her. She could only gleam one thing from them: fear. But at what? "I need you to be honest with me when I ask you this question: did someone do this to you?"

He swallowed. He looked away again, first at the pillow on the bed, then toward his lap again. He gripped some of the fabric of the sheet under him in a tight fist. But still, he wouldn't say anything.

She sighed. "Ulrich, if somebody is hurting you then-"

"...No," he finally answered. His voice always had a kind of reserved sound to it, but now it had a strange edge to it. A note of worry, maybe even slight panic. BUt still it was quiet; she almost hadn't heard him interrupt her.

Her concern deepend. "You're certain about that?"

"Look, it's…" he huffed in exasperation. "It's not like that, ok?"

"Then what is it like, Ulrich?" she asked patiently. "Because with only this to go on, I have to assume that-"

"It was just Jim…"

"Jim!?" she all but shrieked. Jim was many things, but this… no! He couldn't be…!?

He seemed nonchalant as he continued. "Yeah, it wasn't anything big. He just-" He cut his absurdly casual sounding voice off as he realized what he was saying. Then, his eyes went wide, and he threw his hands out in front of him and waved wildly while he rapidly shook his head. "Oh, that sounds bad. No no no, that's not what I meant. I uh… meant gym class. Y'know, phys ed! Jim in gym" he rambled.

He scratched his cheek and let out an awkward laugh. "Y-yeah, it probably happened during gym class—completely unrelated to Jim, the gym teacher though! Easy mistake to make, ha ha..."

Her eyes narrowed as she folded her arms. "Ok… then how did it happen in gym class?"

"It er… uh…" he stammered. He tried to say several things, but nothing would come out coherently. Clearly, whatever he was trying to say wasn't going to come out. He snapped his jaw shut tight and let his shoulder droop, and looked back down at his lap and twiddled his thumbs.

"Ulrich," She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but stopped just short, thinking better of it at the last second. She let it drop back to her side. "You're not in trouble for any of this... But I need to know: who did this to you?"

He hesitated. "It… it really wasn't anything big. It was just… stuff that happened during martial arts practice with Yumi,"

She frowned. "Ishiyama?"

"Do you know any other Yumi's?" he retorted. At her sharp look, he glanced off toward the side again.

"...I wasn't aware Jim was still keeping up with those classes," she noted after a pause. She'd thought they'd been cancelled due to low attendance.

"...We still like to practice a lot," he said.

She sighed. Of course they did. She started to rub at one of her temples; these kids would be the death of her.

"Er…" he suddenly spoke up. "Yumi won't get in trouble for that, will she?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. "No, she's not in trouble either. But all that being said, you two need to be more careful. A bruise here or there is one thing, but this is unhealthy. For both of you. "She stopped as a thought crossed her. "Do I need to tell Yumi these same things, or is it just you acting so recklessly?"

He shrugged.

She should've expected that.

She sighed again. "Regardless, you need to cut back on this now before you really hurt yourself, ok?"

"Ok, ok, get it already," he grumbled. "Can we just… finish this up? ...Please?" He tacked on that last part like it was an afterthought.

Seeing as she probably wasn't going to get much further with him, she relented. She nodded and made some marks in her notes again. "Yes, we can finish this up. However," she pointed the end of her pen at him. "I'm ordering you to lay off of strenuous activity for at least a week, including gym."

"But-"

"I don't want to hear it. I'll be writing a note to Jim about this, and if I catch wind of you ignoring my order then I promise you you're going to regret it, understand?" He gave her an angry glare, but nodded, if begrudgingly. "I also want to see you back here within a week as well. And don't think I'm letting you walk out of here without giving you something for those."

He looked like he wanted to protest still, but instead he held his tongue. "...Fine," he muttered, then even quieter than that, she heard a "Thank you…"

Better than she usually got at least.

His health exam continued on mostly as normal—the only major surprise had been the bruises. Ulrich Stern was otherwise very healthy but… something was still off. The whole time, she could stop fixating on the marks.

They would be distressing to see on anyone, but Ulrich was barely 13. And perhaps some would believe that was simply due to overexertion when it came to his martial arts practice. Even she had to admit it wasn't an entirely implausible explanation for some of the bruises he had.

But for many of the others…

Unless Yumi was slamming him against walls or literally beating him then…

Of course, Yumi wouldn't do that, regardless of whether or not she had the ability to. But that left an important question: just what were the marks from then? Ulrich clearly wasn't going to answer without lying or dodging the question, which only made her more concerned.

She'd heard that his group was very secretive. She'd have believed that based on how often they used her office as an excuse to go running off somewhere—it wasn't so uncommon to hear it sometimes in the past, but never had it occurred this often in a school year. But no one knew where they went in those times.

Did this have something to do with whatever it was they went? And if so…

Just what was it they were doing, and how much more worried did she need to be?

* * *

**This was an interesting one for me. Yolanda was kind of a blank slate for me. Technically, I guess Yumi's mother was too, she got even less screen time, but I could at least have her be a concerned mother. Yolanda... I guess she was kinda pushy in some episodes, but usually it was because something bad was going on and she didn't want any distractions. I did what I could with her, but I'm not sure how I feel about it overall.**

**Why use her, you ask? Well, there's only so many consistently present adults in the show, and I felt like not including the person the group always pretends to go see was an opportunity too good to pass up on.**

**And on a slightly different note... we are living in a rather scary time right now. I'm not going to discuss anything in depth, one because I don't like dating things by discussing real time events in the notes anymore, and two, because I know many use fanfic as a form of escapism.**

**All that begin said though... please stay safe everyone. Wash your hands, stay inside as much as you can, and remember: one day, we'll get through this together.**


	4. Suzanne Hertz

Suzanne Hertz

Over the years, she'd seen many students go through her classrooms. For most after they left, she was certain she wouldn't remember them if she saw them again. It wasn't because she disliked them or that she meant to be rude, it was just the nature of being a teacher. With so many students there simply because they had to be and not out of any personal desire to be there, some were going to fall through the cracks of her memory over time.

There were some that, even years later, she could still recognize names for, and others she could recognize their faces. But seldom few could she put the two together for.

She had a feeling Jeremy Belpois was going to be one of those few exceptions.

Even just her first meeting with the boy had been memorable.

He'd been scrawny and nervous, sitting alone at one of the front seats in the room as the rest of the class trickled in, and generally looking very out of place. She remembered thinking he was a younger student who'd gotten lost and asking him if he was sure he was in the right room, only to learn that he'd skipped a grade and recently transferred schools.

And soon enough he proved why.

He was generally very quiet, and didn't seem to have any connections to any of the other students at the school, but whenever she talked about science there was a bright light in his eye that suited him well. He absorbed information like a sponge did water. When she asked a question, the nerves and awkwardness he usually exuded melted away and left confidence in their place as he answered, usually correctly. More times than not, he was right. He consistently scored the highest marks not only in his own class, but across all her classes.

He had an unbridled passion for science that was unmatched by any other student she'd met. He was an absolute joy to get to teach—not a statement she got to make very often. It was her policy to avoid showing favoritism toward any of her students, but he made hard not to beam at him with pride when he excelled.

...And it also made it all the more disheartening to see him in this position now.

She glanced up from the tests she was grading to check on him. He was still there, sitting in his usual spot toward the front with a small stack of assignments to work on. He'd stopped writing for a moment however, and was holding his forearm while he flexed his fingers with a wince.

She frowned. "Problem, Jeremy?"

He jumped, glasses going slightly askew on his face. He fixed them, only for them to slide down again as he rapidly shook his head. "N-no, ma'am," he said, then picked up his pencil once more.

Hm. A hand cramp perhaps? Unsurprising, he had been writing for a while. It was his own fault he was here though.

Perhaps this would teach him not to make such a loud disruption in class.

She shook her head and looked back down at her papers. She didn't normally watch over detention like this, Jim usually handled it, but she decided to make a rare exception to lighten his load this time (Something about one of the younger grades causing mischief during lunch, or so she'd heard), especially since she only had one student to deal with.

…Had someone told her even a few months ago that Jeremy Belpois would be that student, let alone the fact that he was a detention regular now, she would have scoffed. And yet, somehow it had become the truth.

Something about Jeremy had changed recently.

Suddenly, the nervousness he had occasionally exhibited before had transformed into full blown anxiety. The once familiar light that shone in his eyes when she lectured had been dulled and replaced with a look of perpetual worry. He was constantly on edge now, jumping at the slightest sounds and always looking far more tired than he ever used to.

Beyond that, he also constantly missed class now, either suddenly ditching halfway through or not even bothering to show up at all. And even when he was in class, he wasn't much better. He was as sharp as ever in his work, but he seemed to hardly pay attention anymore. He would much rather try and sneak in glances at that confounded computer of his when he thought she wasn't looking.

Or cause disruptions, apparently, such as what happened today. He'd jumped up in the middle of class and shouted something in anger. What exactly, she wasn't sure, she hadn't listened that closely before cutting him off with a notice that he'd be serving two hours of detention that afternoon.

All a far cry to what he used to be like.

She wasn't the only one who'd noticed the change in his demeanor. She'd overheard the other teachers lamenting before about how he'd changed and trying to rationalize it. Some theorized he was having personal issues that were distracting him, perhaps in his home life, while others accused his friend group of being a corrupting influence on him.

She didn't think it was anything like that, even if she didn't fully understand his choice in companions (Yumi Ishiyama and their eventual addition of Aelita Stones made some sense, but she had no idea how he'd ever started talking to washout students like Ulrich Stern or Odd Della Robbia). Frankly, she'd just been glad to see him finally make some friends his own age—even she, as someone who tried to stay uninvolved in the personal lives of her students, could tell Jeremy had been lonely before their sudden friendship formed.

But as for what was the actual cause…

She wasn't sure.

She was a woman of science. Therefore, she liked dealing with concrete, provable facts, not baseless rumors or the personal opinions of others. And the only evidence she had to go off of was that Jeremy, a once straight-laced, picture perfect student, was skipping class with his group of friends.

The 'why?' of it all could be any number of reasons.

The only true way to know would be to ask him directly, but even then that was unlikely to yield results—not that she would have been the one to ask anyway. They were all very secretive about what they did, which of course led to even more rumors, and even some concern by other faculty members.

She wasn't all that worried though. Seeing such changes in students wasn't that unusual. Disappointing to see, especially in a student like Jeremy, but common. It was just that age they were getting to. It likely wasn't anything to worry about.

After all, they were still children. How much trouble could they really be getting into?

She continued to grade her papers in almost pure silence, save for the sounds of Jeremy's pencil against paper. She was almost done with this stack actually. How much time was left? She glanced at the nearby clock.

Another half hour to go.

Hm. Perhaps she should've brought more to grade…

Just as she was about to pull one of the last tests from her stack, she heard the sound of a pencil clattering on a desk. She looked to see Jeremy had dropped his pencil again, and it laid on top of several worksheets that had scattered across the table. But more importantly, she saw Jeremy holding his arm again.

His fingers were squeezed into a tight fist as he held his arm close to his body. He tried raising it up a bit, only to let out a hiss of pain. Trying to relax his fingers apparently didn't feel much better either.

"Gnrk…!" He let out a grunt of pain through tightly clenched teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut. His left hand, which was holding up his right, gripped the fabric of his sweater so tightly his knuckles turned a stark white.

Her brow furrowed. "Jeremy?" she asked. He didn't respond. She frowned and started to stand up. "Jeremy, what's wro-"

He jumped at the sound of her chair scraping against the floor. "N-nothing! I'm fine, I just uh…" he swallowed and looked back up at her, panicked. "Twisted my arm wrong!"

Jeremy Belpois was many things. A good liar was not one of them.

"I would rather you pull a page from Jim's book then try to lie to me," she remarked, her expression flat. She held out a hand. "Now, let me see your arm,"

He leaned back from her. "It-it's fine. It'll stop in a minute or two." And then, as if to try and prove his point, he reached for his pencil again. However, he'd barely picked it up before he let out another pained, strangled sound.

Yes, the epitome of 'fine'

She gently pulled the pencil out of his hand and gingerly took hold of his arm. He let out another wince and tried to pull it back from her. He stopped when, she assumed, that too proved painful, based on the face he made. He let out a defeated sigh and let the arm go limp in her grasp.

She pulled back on his sleeve. Immediately she was greeted with the edge of a bandage that had been wrapped from the middle of his forearm to just before the bend of his elbow. It was starting to come unraveled. She shot a look toward Jeremy.

He wouldn't look back up at her.

She sighed and pulled slowly at the bandages. Jeremy's fingers tensed into a fist again for a moment and he let out another wince, but he otherwise said nothing. And as she pulled back the end of the bandage, she found out why.

A burn.

He'd been hiding a burn underneath. A relatively recent one too by the looks of it; it was still red and irritated looking, and a number of blisters covered the area.

Her eyes widened. "Jeremy…" she breathed out, unable to mask her surprise. She looked back down with him, an unspoken question written all over her face: 'How?'

He shrunk back from her gaze and looked down again. "Can… can I take you up on that offer to take a page out of Jim's book now?" he muttered. He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve, pulling it back more to avoid rubbing against the blisters.

She restrained the urge to sigh. Of course. She had so many questions. "Have you cleaned it yet today?" was the only one she voiced.

"Er… no," he replied after a moment's hesitation. Based on that tone, she could only assume he hadn't done so at all since whenever it occurred.

Hm. Perhaps she should have a review on lab safety and on what to do when things go wrong. But that was a thought for later. She shook her head, then balled up the used bandages to dispose of them properly later and turned on her heel toward the back of the class.

"Come with me," she ordered, and motioned for him to follow. She heard his chair scrape against the floor as she made her way over to the sink in the back. She turned the water on and let it run over her fingers to check its temperature. "I will assume with how often you ask to see her that knows about this already?" She glanced back at him.

He was still standing a bit behind her, awkwardly shuffling on his feet. "Uh, yeah. She knows," he said.

"Hm. Then you would do well to heed her medical advice on how to treat this. Come here," she said, motioning agin for him to step up. As soon as he did, she grabbed hold of his arm again and guided it toward the faucet. "This may sting a bit,' she warned.

He let out a squeak when the water made contact with the burn. His instinctive response was to try and pull away, but she held his arm steady. Soon, his tugging stopped, though his uncomfortable expression remained.

She started to pull down some soap. "I know that you're intelligent enough to know to it's important to follow instructions on how to treat something like this properly. Why haven't you?" she asked.

He kept his gaze focused on his arm and shrugged. "I… forgot about it?" It sounded more like a question.

How reassuring.

"Then let this be your reminder then," she said, her expression turning more stern. "Wounds like this won't heal right if you don't treat them properly. You need to take care of yourself better,"

His expression turned sour, and she heard him mumble something bitter under his breath. "That's all I ever hear these days…"

"What was that?" she asked, not quite hearing over the water.

He flinched, both at her tone and, she assumed, from the soap on his arm. "I mean… that's what the others said too. Earlier, before I…" he trailed off.

Ah. So that had been what his outburst was about then. Too much concern from his friends.

Or, maybe just enough, if this was anything to go by.

And perhaps on more than just this if she thought about it. Because while she didn't go out of her way to eavesdrop on students—she again, refused to be a part of any rumor mill from students or staff alike—she did sometimes hear snippets whether she wanted to or not.

And while he and his friends were very secretive, they weren't always very quiet.

She'd heard a few arguments between them that she hadn't paid much mind at the time. Arguing about Jeremy himself sometimes, about how he pushed himself too hard or that he needed to take a break.

Hm.

"It sounds like they care about you then," she noted.

A wistful smile came over his face. "Yeah, I… I'm pretty lucky to have them, I guess."

She nodded. "Yes, you are,' she agreed. She moved his arm again to rinse it off before shutting off the water. "So maybe you should listen to them if they say they're concerned about you. They might have a better idea about it then you do."

Not a sentence she ever thought she'd be saying about students like Ulrich or Odd. But, she supposed the old saying rang true: even broken clocks were right twice a day.

He looked up at her in surprise as she grabbed some paper towels, then looked away again, face tinted slightly red. "Maybe…"

"Here," she handed the paper towel to him. "Pat that down until it's dry while I look for the bandages," she instructed. Silently, he took it and did as he was told. He winced a few more times at first, but seemed to figure out what pace he needed to do it at quickly.

She turned toward some of the other cabinets nearby and started to rummage around in them. There were always some spare first aid kits kept in all the classrooms in the science building, just as a precaution. The labs did have some inherent risk after all. They weren't incredibly dangerous of course, but accidents did happen of course. Best to have something just in case there was broken glass.

But as she looked, she couldn't find any sign of them. Her brow furrowed. "That's strange… Where are they?" she wondered. She could've sworn she'd checked them before the school year began, and they'd been fine. And no one had needed to use them as far as she was aware so far.

"Er, ma'am?" Jeremy interrupted her thoughts. He still had the towel to his arm, and motioned toward where he'd been sitting with a jerk of his head. "I uh, have some in my bag."

She paused, then turned and narrowed her eyes at him. He squirmed where he stood. Without taking her eyes off him, she walked over to his bag and opened it. She had to dig around a bit, past his laptop—he always had that thing for some reason—and some books, but she found them, tucked away in another pocket.

She quirked a brow at him. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his good arm as he walked over to her. She shook her head.

Jeremy may not be a good liar, but he was certainly stubborn, and if he didn't want to supply any answers, she wasn't going to waste their time trying to force them out of him.

She started to wrap his arm again in the new bandages. "Now, you should repeat this process every day until the blisters go away. It lowers the chance of it getting infected," she looked back up at him with a serious look. "And listen to your friends next time. Otherwise, I may tell them to bring you back to me next time, understand?"

He grimaced and nodded. As soon as she finished, she but the remaining roll back in his bag as he sat down. He reached for his pencil again, but before he could put it to paper, she took the sheets away, much to his confusion.

"I think that's enough for today," she decided.

He let out a surprised noise. His eyes raced toward the clock. There were still 15 minutes left. She couldn't help the smirk at his response.

"I'm not heartless, Jeremy. I assume you know now not to shout out in class?" she asked. He nodded rapidly. "Then I think we can cut this short, just this once." Though, if anyone asked, she'd deny it.

Couldn't let the students think she was going soft, now could she?

She collected the small stack of busy work she'd had him do and nodded toward the door. "Alright then, go on." Quickly , Jeremy collected his bag, swinging it over his shoulder with his good arm and made his way to the door.

But before he could walk out…

"Jeremy,' she called out.

He stopped in the doorway. "Y-yes?"

"I'm not about to pry into your personal life; what you do with your time is up to you. And I doubt I need to tell you this, you're a smart young man, but…" If her expression softened just a bit, she blamed it on the lights. "Whatever choices you make, and whatever it is you do with your friends all the time, make… make sure you're smart about it. And be careful."

He was quiet for a moment, a contemplative look on his face. Then, his features hardened in a way she'd never seen from him before. There was something in his eye; not the light she'd seen from him in the past, this was too different

This was something far grave. And then, just before he left, he said something that, for some reason, left a sinking feeling in her chest

"Don't worry, Ms. Hertz," he said, his voice serious.. "I think about the choices I'm making every single day."

* * *

**Look, I'm just saying these kids get electrocuted A LOT.**

**And I always saw Ms. Hertz as the kind of teacher that you could go to if you needed help, but you have to go to her. She's not gonna make hasty assumptions otherwise. And wile I certainly think Jeremy's not a terrible liar, he usually has those preplanned.**

**When he tries to just wing it, or is y'know, tired and panicked? They probably aren't nearly as good.**

**So, this was actually the chapter that kind of inspired the story, yet also somehow the hardest one to write? I guess it was because I had the concept in my head but not really a plot for it. Story of my life. But what inspired it actually was Jeremy. Cause while obviously all the Lyoko Warriors get thrown around a lot (thus why I made the focus all of them and not just Jeremy) **

**Jeremy's a character I could probably go on about for awhile, but I'll spare you that and sum it up with: I think he gets too much hate and I wish the show focused a bit more on his own mental health. Cause the amount of stress this kid puts on himself is insane.**


	5. Gilles Fumet

Gilles Fumet

After working as a teacher for a number of years, there was one truth he'd learned to be true: the biggest struggle of the job was and forever would be trying to find ways to keep the attention of the students. His was a particularly bad subject in that regard, as while he'd been fascinated by the past events that led up to the present, he was well aware he was not in the majority opinion on that subject.

History and geography just weren't topics most kids found very interesting.

To combat that, he'd come up with a number of ideas over the years. Research projects and papers, in class activities, even just variations in how he delivered the lectures every now and again.

But perhaps his most helpful change was the most simple one: simply pacing around the class while he taught.

It's purpose was twofold: first, it helped keep some students' attention as they tried to follow him while he trailed around the room. And second: it helped him keep a better eye on some of the… less attentive students. Amazing how much work they could get done when they saw him coming their way.

It also had the added benefit of letting him stretch his legs for a bit, so it was really a win for him all around.

It was especially effective on days like today, where the class was unusually antsy. A combination of lunch being just around the corner—another factor that made it hard to teach the class some days—and an excess amount of wisecracks from Odd Della Robbia had seemed to leave almost everyone for the class to end. There'd been constant whispering and other inattentive behavior today.

Clearly, they were ready to leave.

Unfortunately for them, he still had a little under half an hour left, and plenty more to say about the geography of eastern Asia.

He'd been in the back of the class when he'd realized his next point would be better demonstrated with a map, and walked back toward the front of the room where they were kept. After pulling down a map, he noticed a smudge on his glasses and pulled them off to clean them.

He turned back around as he put them back on, and that's when he saw it. And immediately he felt frustrated.

Because if there was anything he hated to see his students doing, it was sleeping in class.

...Especially when it was a repeat offence.

He paused in his lecture as he stared down for a moment. Then, without any warning he slammed a hand down on the desk, startling the girl awake with a gasp and making many others in class jump in surprise. Her head snapped up in an instant, and the hand she'd been leaning against fell back against the table with a soft 'thud'. The pen she'd been holding in a loose grip in her other hand also went clattering to the floor. Her eyes went wide as she looked around the room, panicked.

"Aelita Stones," he said in a well practiced, stern tone of voice. She tensed at the sound of it and slowly looked up at him, not quite able to meet his gaze. "We'll be having a chat after class,,"

The girl at least had the decency to look ashamed. Aelita shrank back in her seat with a wince and nodded, her face starting to turn red. "Y-yes, Mr. Fumet," she muttered.

The majority of the rest of the class burst out into a fit of juvenile sounding 'ooohs' and laughter, as often happened when he disciplined someone in class. He gave the class a look and folded his arms to quiet them down again, but out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but notice the few that weren't joining in the amusement.

Ulrich and Odd, usually some of the loudest voices when something like this occured, were silent. Jeremy meanwhile had reached down to grab her fallen pen and handed it back to her. He leaned close and appeared to whisper something to her with a look of concern, but he didn't hear it. Aelita said nothing in response to him, merely shook her head and took the pen from him before staring down at her half-written notes with a borderline miserable expression on her face.

He rubbed at his temple as he tried to stop himself from letting out a disappointed sigh.

Aelita was normally a model student. In hindsight it was almost funny, as he remembered the fear and panic that had swept through the staff when they'd learned someone related to Odd Della Robbia would be joining them. Everyone had braced themselves for the chaos that would come when she arrived. More than one teacher had voiced their idea of a worst case scenario involving the two.

And then they'd actually met Aelita and found that she was the complete opposite of him. Where he was loud, obnoxious, and a slacker, she was much more quiet, reserved, and diligent in completing her work, usually to good results. And not just in his class, he'd heard praise for her from just about all the other teachers she had. No one had expected that from her.

Really, one of the only strikes against her was one of the few habits she shared with her cousin: they both had a penchant for disappearing halfway through class with their friends, if they even bothered to show up at all. No one knew where it was they did that they felt was so important they had to miss class for, and truly he didn't really care. They were the ones that had to deal with those consequences, not him. And at least she still kept up with her grades, unlike Odd.

Honestly, it was hard to believe the two were even related some days.

Although, days like today were the exception, and they always frustrated him. Sleeping in class may have been one of Odd's favorite activities when he was bored, but it wasn't one of hers. Of course, even the brightest of students could have their off days every now and again, but this was starting to become too frequent to ignore.

So, he wasn't going to.

But, he reminded himself as he watched Aelita fiddle with her pen, that was a discussion for later. For now, he had a class to teach. Soon, the students settled down back to their previously bored expressions, with only a few stray smiles here or there as the difference from before, and he was able to proceed with the lesson. He turned back around and pointed to the map as he continued where he'd left off.

Time flew by of course, just as it always seemed to. He was halfway through a sentence when the bell cut him off and he looked back at the clock in surprise. Half the class was up in an instant to make a mad dash towards the door.

"Remember to read pages 54 through 68 in your textbook before next class!" He called out to them as they hurried out of the room, but he was certain most of them were ignoring him. The general consensus among the class seemed to be, 'if you didn't hear him say it, it wasn't assigned'.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with an irritated sigh. Tomorrow was truly going to be a test of his patience, he could tell already.

But that was a problem for tomorrow. As for his problem today…

He looked back over at her to find her standing next to the table she'd been sitting at while she slowly packed her things into her bag. Her friends hung around her, seeming to be trying to cheer her up to limited success—she at least gave them a small smile. However, the moment she saw him again it slipped away. She stared down at her boots as he approached.

He frowned at her friends still hovering around her. "I believe I only asked for Aelita, not Aelita and an audience," he said. None of them moved, only stared at him. "Don't you have other places to be?" Lunch was next for them, and he couldn't imagine Odd willingly missing that.

Odd, however, surprised him by looking up at him with an almost defiant look in his eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Aelita placing a hand on his shoulder. He let out a startled noise as she shook her head at him.

"I'll be fine. Go," she said, eyes flickering toward the door.

The three boys shared a conflicted look for a moment. Then Jeremy made a motion to his bag and tilted his head toward the door. While he didn't understand what that meant and he narrowed his eyes at them, they apparently understood it perfectly. Ulrich and Odd let out hums at the motion and looked back at Aelita.

"We'll wait up for you," Ulrich said to her. She also glanced at Jeremy's bag and gave a nod. Before he could even ask, the three of them headed out the door, leaving him and Aelita alone in the room. He hummed. Just as strange as they always were.

He decided to chalk it up to just another one of the many peculiarities with their group and leave it at that. He had something more important to focus on.

A beat of silence passed over them after the door clicked shut. Aelita shuffled on her feet, seeming unsure what to do with his watchful on her.

Finally, he sighed. "Aelita-"

"I-I'm sorry," she quickly interrupted, much to his irritation. He remained quiet as she continued, "I-I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just…" she had a contemplative look before she shook her head. "I promise I-"

Now it was his turn to interrupt. "You 'promise you won't let it happen again'?" He finished for her. Aelita winced again and gave a weak nod. He scoffed. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe that. This is the third time this has happened in the past two week." And that wasn't even counting the few other incidents that had happened before now. He'd been willing to look past them then due to how rare it was, but now...

It was starting to become an extremely irritating habit of hers.

"I… I know, and I…" Aelita stuttered out.

"Really, I expected better from a student like yourself. My class is for you to learn about history, not for you to take a nap because you're bored. You should know better than this," He readjusted his glasses again as he started to pace back and forth. "Not only is it a waste of my time, but it's a distraction for everyone else, as well as a terrible example,"

"W-well-"

"Honestly, this is starting to become a pattern with you. If this continues any longer, then I'm afraid I can't be so lenient anymore," He sighed. "If this happens again, then I'm going to have to start getting the principal involved, understood?"

He didn't enjoy sending anyone to the principal's office, which gave him a reputation of being one of the more lenient teachers at Kadic when it came to discipline. Getting Mr. Delmas involved was something he always considered a last resort, but he wasn't sure if there was much else he could do to get the point across to her.

For a moment, it seemed to have worked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch, then nod her head. He turned to look at her proper as she started staring holes into the floor again, and it gave him pause.

Had she always been quite so… pale?

A hand went to his chin as he started looking over her. She had an almost sickly appearance to her that he hadn't noticed on his quick glances at her during class. She most certainly paler than she normally was, a fact which brought his attention to the dark marks under her eyes. For a brief moment she looked up again at one of the nearby windows, revealing slight redness in her eyes.

All that combined with her current downtrodden expression and… she just generally looked. extremely tired.

He frowned. It wasn't a sight he was unfamiliar with. He'd seen many students before who looked like they'd just rolled out of bed; he'd certainly carried a similar expression before a time or too in his life. But this seemed different from those. This didn't look like just the occasional bad night of rest.

As for what it did look like… he wasn't sure.

And that concerned him.

Hm… perhaps he was being a bit too hasty in his initial assumption. Maybe there was more to this than simple boredom.

He leaned back on the table behind him and folded his hands in front of him. "Unless, of course, there's something you'd like to talk about."

She blinked up at him. "W-what are you…?"

"Aelita, I'm not blind. This behavior isn't like you. You know it, and so do I. What I don't know is why it's happening; this is your chance to share that information."

She didn't respond. She looked like she wanted to, but her mouth didn't move. Instead, her lips pressed into a thin line as she took hold of the strap to her bag again and looked nervously down at the floor.

That… did not make him feel any more at ease about the situation.

"Aelita," he tried again, this time in a much softer tone. She looked back up at him again. "You know that if you're having some kind of problem, you can talk to me or any of your other teachers about it, right?" He smiled and added, "I know it may not always feel like it, but teachers aren't your enemies. We want to see you succeed. So please, help me help you."

Confliction flashed through her eyes. She closed them for a moment, then said. "I know, and I appreciate that but…" Her tongue clicked against her teeth, but no more words would come out. She gave a weak, wordless shrug after a moment of silence.

He bit back another frown. "If you'd rather talk to one of your other teachers, I'm sure they'd be willing to listen." Another thought struck him and he added, "Or, you could speak with the school's psychologist. It's his job to help you."

For some reason, most students seemed to forget the presence of Mr. Simone. He was fairly certain it was starting to get to the man...

At the mention of him, however, Aelita quickly shook her head. "No, no, it's uh… it's nothing that serious, I just…" she fumbled for a moment, hesitated even. "...It's just some er… family issues, that's all."

His eyebrows shot up. "Family issues?" he echoed. Strange, he couldn't recall Aelita ever mentioning anything about her family, not even in passing conversations to her friends that he'd occasionally overheard. Odd would mention his family very often, but she was strangely silent about it.

They were quite the mystery.

"What kind of issues?" he asked after she nodded at him.

She blanched. "Er… it's complicated," she replied, and ducked her head down again.

"That sounds like all the more reason to talk with someone about them," he noted. Maybe even with the principal. "Especially if you're losing sleep over it."

"It… It's not as bad as you're thinking," she said quietly. "And it's not as if no one else knows. My friends have been helping." For a moment, a sad sort of smile appeared on her lips, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

He let out a hum. "That's all fine and well, but that's not quite the same as what I'm talking about. There's only so much your friends can do to help."

He almost startled when he heard her let out a soft chuckle. It was quiet, but with how quiet it was in the room it was easily audible. He gave her a strange look. What was so funny about what he'd said?

"Oh, they help more than you could ever know, Mr. Fumet…" she said cryptically. He opened his mouth to ask what exactly that meant, but stopped. Something about the look in her eye told him he wasn't going to get an answer.

He pulled off his glasses again and rubbed at his eyes. "Regardless, if whatever is going on is disruptive enough to you that you're falling asleep in class, I think you-"

"It's nothing that hasn't already been going on anyway," Aelita interrupted again. She gave a cringe as an apology at the look he gave her. "It's… been an ongoing thing anyway. There are just a lot more unknowns about him right now and-"

'Him'?" He latched onto that. Finally, a detail.

She swallowed and muttered something sharply to herself. "...My father," she finally answered after a minute of silence.

His brows furrowed. "Is he sick?"

"...Yes."

...That was a strangely flat tone of voice for her, but it was something to go off of at least. "Has his condition worsened recently?"

"...You could say that," she muttered. Her eyes darted toward the window and her hands clenched into fists. His frown deepened, and he felt a pang of regret for asking such a question so bluntly, but she beat him before he could say anything again. "Mr. Fumet, I appreciate the concern, but I promise it's not as bad as it sounds. It's… just been a bad few weeks with it is all. Things should even out soon… I hope," she muttered that last part under her breath, and he had a feeling he wasn't supposed to have heard it.

"If you say so…" he said hesitantly. "I suppose, in light of these facts, I can overlook this today and leave you off with a warning, however… if things don't change too, I may be forced to take action, understood?" He still couldn't give her special treatment.

"I understand," she nodded, then looked toward the door. "May I…?" The question didn't have to be said.

A part of him wanted to say no. To deny her her leaving until she answered all of his questions to his satisfaction, or until she accepted whatever help was offered to her.

What he said instead, was a quick, "Yes, I suppose we're done here. Better not keep your friends waiting any longer."

Because as much as he wanted to find out what was going on, he couldn't make her talk if she truly didn't want to. He'd done what he could at this point, all he could do now was wait and see what happened next. With any luck, he'd have worried for nothing.

But still, just in case…

"Just remember, Aelita,' he stopped her just before she reached the door. "that my door will also still be open to you, if you ever need it."

She looked at him, surprised, and then she gave him a genuine smile. It was the least tired she'd looked all morning. "Thank you,' she said, then headed out the door.

Outside, he heard the chatter of her friends popping up around her. Mostly they just asked her questions, at least, as far as he could tell before the door closed again. He could hear their voices for another minute (Including Yumi Ishiyama's voice. She must have joined them at some point) before it gradually started to fade away.

And as it did, he couldn't help but feel the sense of worry growing in his chest.

There was something about what she'd said that didn't sit right with him, but he couldn't figure out what. It wasn't as if what she'd said was unreasonable or completely implausible. Family issues would stress him out too even now, let alone at her age. Losing some sleep over it wasn't out of the question.

And yet… something about it had still sounded off to him. She'd been so nervous… and while part of him wanted to write it off as just nerves over speaking about a personal matter, or at the fear of retribution for her earlier mishap, that didn't feel right.

It felt like he was missing something important in this equation.

Briefly, his eye wandered to the door again as her whole group of friends crossed his mind. He'd often had the sense that they were hiding something before. He hadn't really cared about what it was before, but maybe he should. After all, they'd looked similarly tired as she did before, hadn't they? Maybe Odd also had more reasons than just boredom for falling asleep in class?

...Did it maybe have something to do with whatever it was they were so incessant on keeping a secret?

...No, no, this was ridiculous. He needed to stop listening to Jim's conspiracy theories about them, they were starting to alter his opinions. Whatever it was they did, it had no bearing on this situation.

Aelita was just a normal young girl going through a bit of a rough patch in her life right now because of issues with her father. That was all there was to it. Simple as that.

Yes, that was all.

After all, it wasn't like she had any reason to lie to him, right?

* * *

**I apologize for the long wait, but this one was a nightmare to get done, not at all helped by the fact that the chapter I had originally written had to scrapped for being pure garbage. I'm still not 100% satisfied with this, but it's done finally.**

**Thinking of something for Aelita was hard, because while yes, she's not immune to getting attacked in the real world, she's probably the least whaled on due to her plot importance (XANA can't kill her since he needs her at basically every point once she's out of the computer).**

**However, her constant nightmares were something I could latch onto, and here we are.**

**And now, I wanted to say this at the end (And no, we're not quite done yet), but I don't know how long that chapter is going to take me, so I'll say a bit of it now. Just... thank you. Because this story has gotten a ridiculous amount of attention on both sites I've posted it on. Like... I never expected this much feedback on it and my mind is still blown every time I get an email about a comment or such for this fic.**

**Special shout out to the people who comment on more than one chapter, cause you're the real MVP's.**

**Anyway, I know some of you found this fic through it, but for those who don't know: I have a tumblr. I don't post a lot of my own stuff on there, usually just reblog stuff, but my inbox is always open if you wanna say hi and chat. **


	6. Bonus: In The Aftermath

Bonus: In The Aftermath

She was still awake when she heard Yumi come in the front door.

She had no reason to be. She and Takeho had long since abandoned trying to weasel an explanation out of her for her disregard to curfew by waiting for her at the door. All questioning her about it ever did was cause her to retreat from them more, which led to more tension, more arguments, and…

Well, just a generally unpleasant environment that everyone silently agreed they'd rather avoid.

Yet, even in spite of that, she still found herself unable to shut her mind off on nights like these. She tossed and turned for hours while her husband snored away beside her. She wanted to sleep, yet she just couldn't shut her mind off. She was too worried.

And that worry wouldn't settle until she heard the front door and knew that both of her children were home safe.

She listened as Yumi tried to stealthily creep up the stairs. She was very good at keeping quiet, with only a few creaks from loose floorboards (and quiet winces at said floorboards) being the only indication of her movement. When she reached her bedroom however, a quiet gasp broke her silence.

"What…?" she heard Yumi let out, then she heard some rustling in her room. A moment of silence passed, then her door squeaked as it moved again.

Yumi was moving again, and her footsteps were getting closer. As a pair of shadows blocked some of the light sneaking in from the bottom of the door, she realized where exactly Yumi's destination was. Quickly, she turned around, putting her back to the door and pressing healed against her husband's sleeping form.

The only reaction he had was to let out another loud snore.

The doorknob moved a bit, she presumed from Yumi laying a hand on it, but it never turned. Seconds later, she heard the footsteps move away again. Another moment later, the lights to the hallway clicked off, and then Yumi's door squeaked as it finally shut.

When she heard the rustling from before again, though now muffled by the doors, she sighed and laid her forehead against Takeho's shoulder.

It wasn't much, but she hoped the bag of extra medical supplies she'd purchased for her while at the store helped Yumi get through… whatever it was she was going through.

At least, until she was ready to tell her about it anyway.

(There were no words shared about the bag, or whatever her secret was, but the next morning, Yumi joined the rest of them for breakfast for the first time in ages with an appreciative look sent her way.)

—

Another phys ed spent focusing on the rock wall, and Odd Della Robbia still remained the climbing champion of his class. The kid was still in the middle of letting out a victorious cheer from the top of it when the bell rang.

The other students started trudging toward the locker room at a snail's pace. In response, he took out his whistle and blew on it. "Alright, you slowpokes! You heard the bell! Get moving!" he barked out. The startled group nodded and practically dashed for the door.

When he heard another cheer from above, he groaned. Of course, what else should he have expected by now?

"That goes for you too, Della Robbia," he said impatiently. "Get down here and go get changed, on the double,"

"Sir, yes sir!" Della Robbia stood at a rigid attention and gave a mock salute. But he didn't make any move to start climbing down.

He tilted his head. Was he trying to play some game to push his buttons again? But before he could even open his mouth to question him, Della Robbia grinned and shuffled one of his feet close to the edge, and bent his knees slightly.

Oh no…

"Odd! Don't you dar-"

"GERANIMO!" Odd launched himself off the top of the wall and down to the mats below.

Because of course he did.

Odd threw his hands above him as he landed on his feet. "A perfect landing, a total 10 out of 10! Odd the Magnificent, capable of using his cat-like reflexes to scale Commander Jim's nefarious rock wall and to nail the landing back down. Tell me, is there anything he can't do?" He took a bow as he boasted loudly.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, he can't follow directions, for one."

"Uh, objection, Your Honor!" Odd waggled his finger. "You just said to 'get down here on the double', you never specified how. And that was the fastest way." Odd laughed as he just let out a frustrated sigh and pointed toward the door. When Odd took another step however, his laughter was replaced by a grunt of pain as one of his knees buckled. "Ouch… forgot about that…"

"Odd!?" he rushed up to him and started to help him back up. "See, this is why we don't jump to get down from the rock wall."

"Aww, Jim! You do care!" Odd's voice was strained, but it still carried his usual comical tone. He pulled away from his grip and braced a hand against the wall for support. "Don't tell me you're going soft on us?"

"Della Robbia, I-" he stopped, because his eyes locked onto something.

A bruise on his knee, far too dark to have just formed, and the edge of a bandage peeking out just past the edge of his shorts.

Odd followed his gaze and gulped, pulling his knee back and hobbling away a few steps. "I-I must've hit the ground harder than I thought," he stammered with a forced sounding laugh. "Don't you worry though!" he assured him as he limped toward the locker room door. "Nothing that a little ice won't fix. Your rock wall star will be back at it before you know it!"

Odd flashed him a thumbs up before he pushed his way into the locker room, and yet all he could focus on was his leg, and the memory of a certain white case from not too long ago.

Odd, despite how much he asked to go to the infirmary, had never really been injury prone as far as he could tell, which made it all the more out of place. What could he—he and his friends, that is—be doing then that he had to keep one in his room?

Hm… something was familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Just what were they hiding?

—

Ulrich's back was still marred by a sea of dark blues and purples the next time she looked. Some were much better looking, being smaller or more faded, but the amount of them was still concerning as she looked them over again.

"Hm… these look better than they did last time I looked, but…" She paused as her eyes darted between them all again, mentally counting. When she finished, she frowned. "Ulrich, have you been listening to what I told you?"

"What?" He craned his neck to look at her. "Yeah: no martial arts and no phys ed." He folded his arms and looked to the floor and bitterly muttered, "How could I forget something annoying as that?"

"Then what's this?" Her fingers barely ghosted over a bruise near the middle of his back she was sure hadn't been there the last time she saw him.

"Ouch!" He immediately jolted away from her touch and hissed through grit teeth.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized and pulled her hand back. "But you can't expect to get any better if you go against medical advice,"

"But I'm not!" He insisted. "Ask anyone: I've been benched in gym all week!"

She frowned as she moved to stand in front of him. "Then how did you get those extra marks?"

"That's… er… uh, well…" he faltered. He rubbed the back of his neck with a guilty look on his face. "That's just… things just happen sometimes, ok? It's not my fault,"

"What kind of 'things'?" She quickly fired back.

At that he had no answer. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again and looked away. He stared over at the window, folding his arms across his chest.

After a minute of silence with no change she sighed. Stubborn as he always was, evidently.

She rubbed her temple. "Regardless, you need to rest, Ulrich. That's the only way something like this is going to go away," When she saw he still wasn't looking, she spoke with a slightly authoritative tone and added, "And it's the only way I'm going to clear you to be able to participate in gym class again."

He remained silent, then looked at her with almost a glare. Perhaps it was intimating to his peers, but not to her. She simply raised a brow at him. And finally…

"...I know," he sighed. His shoulders dropped and he looked down at his shoes.

She turned to her desk and started writing another note. "Come back in another few days. You're still out of gym in the meantime—and you better not be lying about actually sitting out." Ulrich groaned behind her and grumbled under his breath. Nothing nice, more than likely.

That was fine. He could hate it and her all he wanted. But someone had to look out for him and his health.

Because, for one reason or another, he clearly wasn't doing it himself.

—

She started to keep a closer eye on Jeremy. Nothing extreme—she still wasn't about to pull a Jim Morales and go snooping into business where her nose didn't belong—but enough to take note of strange or recurring things.

Like an occasional scratch, bruise, or wince when he moved.

Or, when he had a new bandage wrapped around the palm of his left hand, as it had been today.

She didn't say anything about it—it wasn't her place to. The frequency of injuries lately was a bit disconcerting, but nothing she hadn't seen other adolescent boys deal with over the years. Who knew what kind of shenanigans he could get wrapped into outside of class friends like Ulrich and Odd.

But still, she took note of it and watched to see if he had any trouble.

Even after the bell rang and everyone was packing up and leaving, ready to go to lunch, she watched him, just in case. Ulrich and Odd had already gone ahead, something about racing for dessert, leaving Jeremy and Aelita two of the only students left, and they were wrapped up in their own conversation.

...Which she happened to overhear.

Jeremy reached down for his bag, only to be intercepted by Aelita, who got to it first. She smiled at him and handed it to him. "You know you don't have to do that,"

"I know," she replied. "But you needed a reminder not to use that hand." She waved toward his bandaged hand.

"It's not that bad," he insisted. He tried to emphasize his point by adjusting his bag's strap with his injured hand, but all that did was make him wince.

Aelita didn't seem impressed. "I find that hard to believe, especially after seeing how you got it," She let out a hum as they started walking to the door. "Have you looked at it yet today?"

"Um… no?"

Oh lord, not again. Had it really not stuck? She looked up from her papers with the intent to cut in, but Aelita, seeming more sensible, beat her to it.

"Jeremy!" Aelita scolded. "We've been over this before! You have to take care of yourself!"

"I know, but it really isn't-" he stopped, having noticed her staring at him. He paused at the door to look at her.

She raised a brow with her arms crossed as she leaned against her desk. He didn't need another reminder, did he?

Evidently, no. Jeremy gulped and ducked his head, his face going red. "W-well, if it'll make you feel better about it, I guess…" he said, then continued as they walked out the door.

She watched the door until she couldn't hear their voices echoing through the hall anymore. When they were gone, she furrowed her brow and looked back down at her stack of papers.

She was glad Jeremy was heeding her advice (even if he needed a reminder or two) and talking to his friends. But still, whenever she looked at him lately, all she could think about was what he'd said as he'd left that day.

"_Don't worry, Ms. Hertz. I think about the choices I'm making every single day."_ He'd said.

It wasn't something that concerned her. It wasn't her business. And yet, she still wondered…

Why had he looked so deathly serious when he'd said it?

—

True to her word, Aelita's attentiveness in class did even out after some time. A few weeks after their little chat, she'd returned to being just as focused as she usually was, with only a few questionable moments here or there (not including the days where she just wasn't present at all, an event that still occurred with an annoying amount of frequency).

Her complexion returned to looking much better (though she still often looked somewhat tired), and she seemed to laugh a lot more from when he would see her talking with her friends. He had to admit, itt was a relief to see her without a miserable expression on her face for once.

"Oh, yes uh…" she'd stuttered out one day when he'd commented on her improvement while she was handing in an assignment. "Things have uh… well they're still uncertain, but they're looking a little more positive now,"

"That's good to hear. How-"

"Hey, Aelita! You coming?" Odd called from the door, interrupting him before he could ask any questions. She gave him an apologetic look before hurrying after her cousin and the rest of their friends with a surprising amount of speed.

That was something he didn't understand about them: they were always in a hurry. He didn't know why, it wasn't like they didn't have plenty of time to get from one class to another. Yet they still always ran around campus as if someone's life depended on it.

Just one of the many peculiarities he'd noticed about them lately.

He just didn't understand them. He'd been paying more attention to the group lately (partially due to his own unsettling feelings after talking with her, as well as her strange anecdote about them 'helping her' with her issue) and their behaviors and…

He just didn't get it.

Why did they run around like that? Why did they skip classes; why did they do it at such seemingly random times? Why were they always in the woods by campus? Why did they speak in such hushed whispers all the time? Why did they always look so worn down anymore?

Just… why?

He'd tried asking other staff members about it. Jim was convinced, like always, that they were up to no good (though he'd paused a moment to think before this last time). On the other side of the spectrum, Suzanne gave her usual answer of not looking too deeply into students affairs.

Mr. Delmas, with as much as he always had on his plate, seemed oblivious to most of it whenever it was brought up, and chalked it up to typical teenage troubles.

It all just left him feeling a mixture of concern and confusion that he didn't know what to do with.

He looked up when he saw a flash of color near the window. The five of them were running toward the forest again for… some unknown reason.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

Kadic had a long history of mysterious events occurring on it's campus, with students and staff alike.

Why were the five of them so adamant about becoming the latest one on that list?

* * *

**Let me address the obvious question first: There's no William in this simply because this was meant to focus on the physical trauma these kids endure. **

**While William certainly has his fair share of trauma from his time on Lyoko, it's largely not physical, which is what these oneshots were meant to focus on. ****Aelita's was the biggest exception, mostly because I had the realization that she usually couldn't be thrown around as much due to her plot importance, but I only get away with the psychological route once before it became repetitive.**

**All that said... I'd be lying if I said this was how I planned on ending this... which if that shows in the quality I apologize. This went through a million different rewrites before I settled on something I was even remotely ok with. It was gonna be a more proper, actual chapter... but really it wasn't coming together not matter what I tried. So I figured some follow ups in some form for the other chapters wasn't a bad route to go instead. If that's a bit of a let down I get it, but I hope you enjoyed everything up to now at least.**

**And on that subject... thank you for reading this. Seriously, thank you. This got way more attention than I ever thought was possible for a CL story this day in age, and I'm still blown away by the response even now. Particularly in the number of people leaving comments, and especially the amount of people that left a comment on multiple chapters.**

**I said it before and I'll say it again: you guys are the real MVPs. Talk about great motivation to write more! Honestly I'm impressed I finished this before the new year rolled around.**

**Thank you all again, and I hope you enjoyed this. Maybe check out some of my other works if you did?**

**No pressure though**


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